


I Have Loved You Since

by DontLetHimGo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (also brief but it happens!), (brief as always for me), (you heard correct!), Anal Sex, Angst, Birthday, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Childhood Friends, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, It's all going on, Laughter During Sex, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mistletoe, New Year's Eve, Previous Break-Up, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Rimming, Smut, Spooning, i just wanted to write something with christmas in it, tbh I think it can be read whenever, this isn't a super christmassy fic either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontLetHimGo/pseuds/DontLetHimGo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em></em>
  <br/>
  <em>He bites his lip. “What happens when you leave again?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Harry smiles, albeit cautiously. “What was your yearbook quote again? ‘Live life for the moment, because everything else is uncertain’?”</em></p><p>  <em>Louis opens his mouth to retort something in return, but he closes it just as abruptly. Harry is trying to go against Louis by using Louis’ own words, and Louis’ never been one to argue with himself.</em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Okay…” he starts slowly. “What’s the plan, Batman?”</em></p><p> </p><p> <br/>An AU where Harry and Louis split up three years ago due to long distance and Louis’ twenty-seventh birthday is coming up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Loved You Since

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm back with a Christmas fic! (Kind of - as I put in the tags, it's not super christmassy, so it can probably be read anytime!) As always, any mistakes made are my own.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this and have a great festive season if you're celebrating something, and if not, have a great day! :) 
> 
> Title is from '18' by One Direction. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction and this work is completely fictional.
> 
> This is a work written by myself, and I do not wish for it to be posted elsewhere. Even if you give me credit, I would much prefer that it stay here on ao3 and on my tumblr only. Thank you!

There’s a photograph on Louis’ bedside table that he can’t quite bring himself to get rid of. 

It’s obvious why, if he’s being honest to himself; but then again, it’s something that hurts his heart every time he wakes up facing that way. 

It’s a constant reminder that the love of his life is, in fact, no longer  _ in  _ his life. 

Along with that, Louis isn’t even entirely sure  _ where  _ exactly the person in this image even is at the moment. They kept in touch for the first few months, but things slowly began to fade out as time went on, and now all that’s left is the fact that they’re still friends on Facebook. 

“ _ Louuuuuissss! _ ” 

Louis groans and rolls over to bury his face in the pillows. The door flies open a moment later, and there are freezing cold hands wrapped around his ankles underneath the duvet. 

“Niall,” Louis grumbles, “your hands are fucking freezing.”

“Good. Might mean you actually get up,” Niall replies. “We’ve got Christmas shopping to do, you know.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Niall sighs, and there’s a pause before there’s a weight dropping itself on Louis’ back and the sub-zero hands have moved to his ears instead. 

“Jesus christ, Ni! I’m up; I’m up!”

Niall cackles. “Well, I suppose it  _ is  _ that time in the morning…”

“Fuck off.”

 

~*~

 

They’ve been dragging themselves around in the cold weather of December for the past hour and a half, and Louis is  _ this  _ close to giving up. Surrounded by people ladened down by numerous shopping bags, he just wishes that he could have a bit more luck with finding the right presents.  

“Hey; reckon I could meet you at Costa in about ten? I’ve got to go and...sort something out.”

Now, Niall’s a shit liar, and Louis can already tell that this ‘something’ is probably part of Louis’ present, but instead of commenting on that fact, he agrees to it and watches Niall scuttle away in the opposite direction. 

After debating on whether he’d be able to have another quick scan through one of the shops surrounding him before meeting Niall—because he knows that the other boy will definitely be longer than ten minutes—Louis decides against it, and starts making his way over to Costa. 

 

“Sorry I’m late, man,” Niall says quickly as he dumps his shopping bags on the floor by their table. “Bumped into an old friend.”

“Really?” Louis puts down his sticky toffee latte. “Anyone I’d know?”

Niall shakes his head. “Nah—Irish lad. Anyway, I’ll be back in a tick.” He hurries over to the counter and starts telling the barista his order, so Louis takes another sip of his drink and turns to look out of the window, people-watching. 

But then he sees someone that he certainly recognises.

Instead of jumping up and running out of Costa to catch this person before they disappear, he’s frozen to the spot, holding the handle of his mug in a white-knuckle grip. 

He hasn’t changed, is the thing.

His hair is still curly; perhaps a little bit longer than the last time Louis saw him, and now mostly held under a bright orange beanie. He almost seems taller somehow—even more of a beanpole than Louis remembers—and his jeans are held tight to his legs, as if they’ve been painted on. 

“You okay, Lou?” 

Niall’s voice makes Louis snap back to reality, and he turns to the other boy with wide eyes. 

“I just saw Harry.”

Niall lets out a huff of breath. “Was it really him? Or was it just someone tall with curly hair again?”

Louis falters and sags in his seat a little, resting his chin on his palms. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “Fuck, I’m so pathetic. It’s been three years, Niall.  _ Three. _ ”

Niall reaches across and wraps a hand around Louis’ elbow. “You were in love, Lou. God knows how long it’ll be until you completely get over him.”

“But surely I shouldn’t be having hallucinations of him!”

“Nah, that part is a bit weird, mate.”

Despite Louis’ response of slapping Niall on the arm and stealing a forkful of chocolate cake, he knows that the Irish lad is right. 

 

~*~

 

“I’m sure that half of these people don’t work at the same place as we do,” Louis mumbles into his drink. 

Liam chuckles. “This company has more departments than just ours, Lou,” he says, looking around the room. 

Louis analyses his friend’s expression of confusion. “You don’t know anyone either, do you?” 

“Well, I, uh…”

Anything Liam was planning on saying is interrupted by loud laughter coming from the other side of the room before it is announced that dinner is about to be served. 

“Um, you’re gonna sit next to me, right?” Liam nudges Louis in the side as they make their way over to the table. 

Louis rolls his eyes. “No, Liam. I’m going to sit next to that berk from accounting.”

Liam shrugs and sits down, immediately pouring himself a glass of red from the bottle right in front of him. “Maybe it would be a way to meet someone.”

“To be honest, I’m not particularly bothered about getting to know anyone here in too much detail.” Louis scoffs. 

“How are you to know that the love of your life isn’t sat at this table?” 

_ Because I know he’s in America, that’s how,  _ Louis answers silently, thanking the gods when one of the waitresses then decides to interrupt to ask if he wants white or brown bread with his soup.

 

~*~

 

“Niall! Are you gonna be ready any time soon?” Louis calls, absent-mindedly turning the screen of his phone on and off as he checks the time. 

“In a minute!” Niall shouts back, and Louis hears what sounds like numerous objects falling on the floor immediately after. Before Louis has chance to see if he’s okay, however, the house phone starts to ring, and he leans over the arm of the sofa to answer it. 

“He—”

“I was thinking, for the food and things, that—”

“Mum?” Louis asks slowly, recognising the voice, but certainly not the lack of lovey-dovey greeting. 

There’s a pause. “Boobear?”

“That’s me. What’s up?”

“Um, I...I may have rung the wrong number,” Jay replies, stumbling over her words a little. 

Louis clears his throat. “Oh, okay. Sounds like you’re organising something big.”

“Um, not really,” Jay says, her voice a little squeaky. “I better be going anyway, my love. I’ll see you soon!”

Louis slowly puts the phone down and leans back in his seat, left a little confused by that conversation.  If anything, he can’t help but be a tad surprised that his mum hadn’t wanted to carry on speaking to him.  _ It’s probably nothing,  _ he tells himself.  _ She probably just needed to call who she meant to instead.  _

“Who was that?” Niall asks as he enters the living room. 

Louis looks up. “My mum.”

Niall pauses where he was pulling his jacket on over his t-shirt. “Really? It was a short conversation...for ya mum, I mean.”

“Said she had the wrong number.” Louis shrugs. 

“Hm.” Niall finishes putting on his jacket. “Easy mistake to make, I guess.”

 

~*~

 

“Please, Lou!”

Louis shakes his head quickly. “Nope.”

“ _ Please! _ ” 

Louis lets out a heavy breath and makes himself go floppy where he’s leaning over the table, head on his arms and empty glass in front of him. “No.”

Before he even has chance to react—or be surprised at Niall’s strength despite the numerous pints in his system—Louis is in the middle of the dancefloor, both of his hands being held by Niall’s as he is twirled around and around. 

“Hey, you finally got him to dance!” Liam exclaims from his right— _ or is it his left? _ —where he is dancing with his girlfriend, Sophia. 

“It was a difficult task, trust me,” Niall replies, finally stopping with the spinning and letting Louis go. “Next step is finding him a dance partner!”

Louis stumbles a little on his feet. “ _ Dance partner? _ ”

“Oi!” Niall grabs the arm of a tall man next to him. “You into blokes?”

Louis’ eyes widen and he elbows Niall in the ribs. “You can’t just ask that!”

“Sure I can!” Niall turns back to the guy, only to find that he’s gone. “Hm,” he grumbles. “Rude.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Louis pulls Niall aside. “I don’t know what you want to happen, but I’m really not in a place where I want to meet someone at a club, Ni. If I’m going to get into a relationship, I want it to just happen—and I don’t want it to start with what may as well be a one night stand. I’ve had enough of them since he left anyway.” He’s surprised by how coherent he’s being with the amount of alcohol he has consumed, but it seems like once he’s started, it’s hard for him to stop. “I know it’s been three years; I  _ know  _ that—but I still miss him. I’m really struggling with picturing myself with anyone else.”

“You can’t just wait around for him!” Niall shouts over the music. “What if he never comes back?”

“He…” Louis pauses and closes his mouth slowly. When he and Harry split up, they never actually mentioned seeing each other again. It was a very painful, mutual agreement that ended six years of what was almost entirely happiness. Louis had always just had that little bit of hope in the back of his mind that Harry would come back for him, or reach out to him and tell him to join him in America. 

“I’m not going to force you to get over him, mate,” Niall says, “but I hate seeing you unhappy.”

Louis isn’t entirely sure what to say in response to that, so he just steps forward and hugs Niall tight. 

 

~*~

 

**From: Mum**

**_Hi boo, just checking that you’re still coming tomorrow at seven? xxx_ **

 

Louis’ head is pounding and his mouth is dry as he squints at the screen of his phone, reading the message from his mum and formulating a reply in his head. 

 

**To: Mum**

**_Can’t get rid of me that easy! I’ll be there xxx_ **

 

Tomorrow is the 23rd of December, meaning that it’s the day before Louis turns twenty-seven. It’s tradition that he wakes up in his childhood bed, has pancakes for breakfast courtesy of his mother and opens his presents at the breakfast table, so the event has as little as possible to do with Christmas. It’s not a big deal to him, but there’s something about him having a birthday on Christmas Eve that his mum really hates. 

 

**From: Mum**

**_Looking forward to seeing you xxx_ **

 

Louis smiles and eventually gathers enough energy to drag himself out of bed and to the kitchen for a glass of water and some Nurofen in an attempt to get rid of the classic December 22nd hangover that has come but once a year since Harry left. He knows it’ll take a while to get to work, so he flops down on the sofa in the living room and gets up Netflix to have something to fall asleep to. 

 

~*~

 

Louis takes a deep breath, clears his throat and hopes that once he’s inside, it won’t be all that long until he’s in bed. Sure, tomorrow can have all the celebration necessary for his unimportant birthday, but for now, what he needs is sleep. 

He only grabs his small bag off the passenger seat, planning on collecting the others out of the boot the next day instead of lugging them all around now. Once his car is locked, he strolls over to the front door and tries the handle, guessing that it’s unlocked as his mother is expecting him. 

“SURPRISE!”

Louis jumps out of his skin as after mere seconds of the door being open, the living room lights are blinding him, and a lot of people are jumping out from behind furniture, loud words of celebration leaving their mouths.

“I, uh…” Louis’ momentarily speechless, looking at all of the joyous smiling faces watching him.

“Look at ‘im—can’t say a fuckin’ word!” 

“Niall! Language!” 

Louis can’t help but chuckle at his friend’s comment and his mother’s reaction as she gestures to Louis’ younger siblings who are now surrounding him. 

“How are you all, then?” he asks them, and he’s immediately bombarded with answers and then limbs as they all proceed to attack him with hugs, apart from Lottie and Felicite, who just smile in the background, waiting patiently for their turn.

As Louis eventually starts going around the room and saying his ‘hello’s and ‘thank you’s to everyone, Lottie starts up a playlist on her phone in the dock and an atmosphere that somewhat resembles a party starts being formed. Jay is the last of everyone—she had been busy with bringing out party food from the kitchen—but when it’s her turn, she keeps Louis to herself for a good ten minutes or so, asking him about anything and everything. 

“...yeah, so things have been okay with that, and—”

Louis’ interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing, and Jay fishes her mobile out of the small bag hanging from her arm. She checks the screen, and when Louis assumes she’s about to ignore it, she holds up a finger and presses ‘accept’. 

“Yes, honey. Mmhm, yeah. Okay, poppet, bye now.” Jay drops the device back into her bag and smiles at her son. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Louis asks, and as Jay opens her mouth to answer, the doorbell rings loudly. 

“Would you mind getting that for me, love?” Jay says. “Probably just a latecomer.”

Louis nods and shrugs, making his way over to the front door and pulling it open.

He thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. 

It doesn’t feel like any part of his body is in the right place; his heart is in his mouth, his stomach has dropped to his feet and he has no idea where anything else is. He’s an uncomfortable mix of happy, confused, surprised and all sorts of other emotions that are fucking with his head.

It’s Harry.

There’s a moment when Louis loses control over himself and ends up wrapped tightly in Harry’s arms, only realising that he’s crying when hoarse sobs are tearing their way out of his throat. 

“Shh, Lou; it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here,” Harry is mumbling, and Louis is gripping onto him tight; his hands curled into fists so that this boy can’t ever escape again. 

“Harry, Harry...oh my God, I can’t believe it...you’re here. You’re actually here…” Louis is rambling, tears streaming down his cheeks and matting the faux fur on the hood of Harry’s coat. “Fuck, it’s been three years.”

Harry rests his cheek on top of Louis’ hair. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Louis pulls back, still gripping Harry’s arms. “Why did my mum invite you to a  _ party?  _ It’s not like I can spend enough time with you when it’s a party!”

Harry chuckles, a grin bringing out the dimple Louis loves. (Well, he loves all of Harry, but whatever.) “We have all of Christmas.”

Louis returns the smile. “That’ll have to be good enough for now.”

 

~*~

 

The air is freezing cold as it whips past Louis’ ears, fluttering his hair in the wind where he stands on the patio just outside the kitchen door. He drops his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his shoe before pulling his jacket tighter around him and leaning back against the wall, letting out a heavy breath. His stomach is still tied up in knots, his mind still in disbelief that Harry is actually inside right now, dancing with one of his little sisters as if he never even left.  _ His Harry.  _

_ Well,  _ he supposes,  _ not exactly his Harry anymore.  _

For all Louis knows, Harry’s heart could belong to someone else by now. He and Harry haven’t really been discussing anything around that particular topic—God knows how they’ve avoided it, but Louis is partly grateful that they have. Don’t get him wrong, he wants Harry to be happy no matter what, but the thought of him with anyone else makes Louis’ heart hurt a little. 

“Hey.”

_ Speak of the devil.  _

Louis looks to his right and watches Harry shut the kitchen door behind him, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them for warmth as he smiles gently. 

“It’s your party; what are you doing out here in the cold, huh?”

Louis shrugs. “Needed some fresh, cold air, I guess.”

Harry lets out a small chuckle as he shuffles up next to Louis, bending his knees a little so he can rest his head on the shorter boy’s shoulder. It can’t exactly be comfortable. 

“Sorta surreal, isn’t it?” he mumbles after a moment.

“What is?”

Harry shifts a little so his nose is pressed into the material of Louis’ jacket. “Being here. Together.”

It’s difficult for Louis to fight the smile threatening to form on his face. “Well, Harold, it was definitely unexpected, yes.”

Harry hums. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

“Really?”

There’s a pause before Harry is lifting his head and hesitating before gently resting his hands on Louis’ waist. “You know what the worst thing about the states is?”

Louis remains silent, his heart in his throat from Harry’s touch as he raises an eyebrow in question. 

Harry clears his throat nervously. “You weren’t there,” he mumbles. “That’s the worst thing about the states.”

There’s barely enough time to be classed as a moment before Louis has one hand in Harry’s hair and the other cradling the younger boy’s face. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Harry is the one that swoops down and passionately presses his lips to Louis’, smiling into the kiss as Louis moves both hands to the back of his neck and curls tighter against him. The kiss turns heated quickly, and Louis yet again finds himself wishing that this reunion didn’t have to happen at a party of all places.

This wish seems even more relevant when the kitchen door flies open, banging against the wall and immediately causing the two boys to jump apart as if they’d just touched a hot stove. 

“Ah, just like the good old days!” Niall exclaims, swinging backwards and forwards with a hand on the door. “Knew it wouldn’t be too long ‘til you were snogging each other’s faces off again!”

If Louis were the type to blush, he probably would be right now, but instead he just dips his head and smiles a little when Harry wraps an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple. 

 

~*~

 

The party is still going downstairs when two slightly tipsy boys burst through the door of Louis’ old bedroom. This isn’t the first time this has happened; in fact, many of Louis’ firsts when it comes to sex happened on the bed that sits against the far wall—the bed that Louis is gently being pushed down onto as Harry continues to kiss him passionately. 

Louis whines, leaning up to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck and pull him closer, shuffling backwards on the matress so Harry can lie on top of him. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Harry murmurs once he has pulled back from Louis’ lips, only to move on to leaving soft kisses down the other man’s neck. 

“What, did you really think I’d be able to leave you alone now that you’ve come all this way?” Louis says as he knots his fingers in Harry’s long hair. (Definitely longer than before.) 

Louis knows that Harry hasn’t come home just for him—all of Harry’s family are here, and many of his friends—but he also can’t help but think that he may have played a pretty important part in that decision, and it’s enough to make him never want to let go of Harry ever again. 

“God, Lou; I’ve waited so long to get my hands on you again,” Harry whispers, one hand holding up the bottom of Louis’ t-shirt as he sucks tiny marks into Louis’ stomach, making him giggle. 

The giggles turn into a moan however, when in one fluid movement Harry pulls down his jeans and boxers just enough to get his mouth on Louis’ cock. 

“Jesus Christ, H,” Louis groans, using every bit of effort to not buck his hips. 

It’s as if Harry can read his mind. “You can, Lou. Fuck my mouth—I want you to.”

So just as Harry sucks the tip into his mouth, Louis gently moves his hips up, trying not to be too rough. Harry moans anyway, shifting into a better position and gripping tightly onto Louis’ hips. 

Unable to kick out because of the jeans around his knees and a heavy Harry on his legs, Louis throws his head back when Harry finally puts his all into sucking his cock, able to fit it all into his mouth and not needing a hand to work on the rest. The moan Louis wants to let out is stifled; he can’t seem to forget that there’s a party going on downstairs—his party—and his bedroom really isn’t very soundproof. 

He nudges his hips upwards again and the moment he feels the back of Harry’s throat on the tip of his cock, he’s pulling the younger man off and back up to his face. 

“ _ Heyyy _ ,” Harry drawls, “I was enjoying that.”

Louis laughs, looking down at the bulge which isn’t being particularly well hidden by the tight denim of Harry’s jeans. “I can tell.”

When Harry pouts, Louis pulls Harry’s pooched bottom lip into his mouth, tugging on it with his teeth before kissing him. Harry immediately responds and lets out a small sound when Louis reaches into his hardly buttoned shirt to run a hand over his sensitive nipples. A shudder runs through Harry’s body and Louis undoes the rest of the buttons, removing the shirt before pressing his palm against the crotch of Harry’s jeans. 

“Lou,” Harry whines. “Take ‘em off.”

Louis does as told, removing the last of Harry’s clothing before Harry rolls the two of them over so he’s underneath and has Louis sat on his thighs. 

“How come you’re mostly dressed and I’m naked?” Harry asks.

Louis shrugs, trailing a hand down the middle of Harry’s chest until it rests just above Harry’s dick. “I dunno. I think I like it.”

Harry shakes his head and reaches out for Louis’ t-shirt, his hand falling short when Louis chooses that moment to take hold of Harry’s cock around the base. A soft moan breaks through Harry’s lips, but he tries again, this time successfully grabbing onto the hem and quickly pulling the shirt upwards until Louis has to let go of him to remove it completely. 

“Better,” Harry says, watching as Louis removes his jeans and boxers too before leaning up to kiss Harry again. Almost straight away Harry’s hands are on his arse, pulling the cheeks apart and lightly pressing a dry finger against him. Louis whines and leans forward so he can grab the lube and a condom out of the top drawer of his bedside table—but of course, he’s not at home, and there’s nothing there.

“Harry—I haven’t got anything.”

“Front pocket of my bag,” Harry replies immediately and Louis jumps off the bed to retrieve them from the bag that must've been brought upstairs earlier (under the assumption that they would be sharing a room, apparently). He drops them in Harry’s arm’s reach; a not so subtle hint for him to get on with opening him up. Harry knows—the two of them have always been so in tune with one another—but the way he slowly slicks up three fingers and cautiously pushes the first inside has Louis squirming impatiently.

“Harry, you know I’m not fragile—hurry the fuck up!”

Harry grins cheekily. “Just testing you, Lou.”

He chooses that moment to join the first finger with a second, scissoring them enough to make Louis let out a small cry. It’s been  _ so long.  _

Harry definitely seems to be conscious of that fact also, ensuring that Louis is well and truly prepared before ripping the condom packet open with his teeth (a typical Harry move when he’s trying to be sexy, Louis remembers) and rolling it on. He stops in his tracks however when Louis giggles. 

“What?”

“Sorry, just remembering when you first did that and didn’t kiss me the whole time because you still had some of the packet in your mouth.”

Harry rolls the two of them over again, dropping his head to Louis’ chest and letting out breathless laughter. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

Louis places a hand under Harry’s chin, raising his head so he can look into his eyes and reply sincerely, “I’ve missed you too.” 

Resting his hands either side of Louis’ head, Harry presses a lingering kiss to Louis’ lips before leaning back to slick himself up and carefully enter Louis’ tight heat. 

There’s no way in hell that Louis can stop himself from letting out an embarrassingly loud moan, which he can only hope is drowned out by the music that has been steadily increasing in volume throughout the party. The way Harry’s face is scrunched up suggests that he’s probably trying to hold back from doing the same—either that or he’s trying too hard not to go too fast. 

“Come on, H; I’m fine. Please,” Louis begs, wrapping his arms around Harry’s back and legs loosely around his hips. 

That’s enough to make Harry speed up in his thrusts, and it really doesn’t take long for him to find the spot that makes Louis see stars. It’s clear that Harry has seen the effect it’s had on him when he murmurs:

“Like riding a bike.”

Louis gathers enough energy to respond, “‘Cept riding a bike isn’t this good.”

“There are always other things you could ride…”

Another moan breaks through Louis’ lips as he arches his back upwards, the feeling in the pit of his stomach building with each passing second. 

“Shit, I’m close,” he groans, reaching down to take his cock in his hand.

“Think you can come untouched?” Harry asks, and without waiting for an answer, gently tangles Louis’ hands with his, effectively preventing him from touching himself. 

Louis cries out, nodding numerous times as Harry continues ensuring that every thrust hits the same angle. He’s close too, Louis can tell that much; his thrusts are becoming sloppier and faster, his breathing only coming in short pants. 

“Fuck, Lou,” he grunts, dropping his head down and letting out one final moan before Louis knows that he’s coming inside him. His movements slow to a stop, and Louis whines as his final thrust hits his prostate dead-on and finally pushes him over the edge. 

Everything after that is blurry; he vaguely registers Harry pulling out of him, throwing the condom away and wiping away the come from his stomach with a cloth he got from God knows where. 

The last thing he remembers is Harry wrapping the duvet around him and going around the bed so he can lie down in front of him to be the little spoon.

 

~*~

 

Almost every morning, Louis would complain about waking up with a mouthful of hair. He would never entirely mean it, because cuddling with Harry as they slept was probably one of his favourite things to do, and Harry almost always insisted on being the little spoon—even when they were ‘only best friends’. 

This Christmas Eve morning though, when he wakes up with his face smushed into masses of chocolate curls, he can’t do anything other than smile and pull the younger boy even closer. 

“Mmm,” Harry mumbles. “Lou? You awake?”

“Yup.”

Harry twists his head in an attempt to turn around, and at the sight of the sleepy (extremely cute) smile on the other boy’s face, Louis can’t help but lean the mere few centimetres forward to press a kiss to the corner of Harry’s lips. 

“Um,” Louis says awkwardly once he’s pulled away. “Was that okay?”

Harry giggles. “You’re really asking me that?”

“Well, I wasn’t really sure if—”

“It is what it is, Lou,” Harry says, turning over properly now so he can run a hand over the inked words on Louis’ chest. “You know, I often think that one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made was leaving you. I’m fairly certain that I’ll never find anyone who means as much to me as you do. You’re just...perfect.”

Louis’ breath catches, and all of the words he knows he wants to say back are right there in the forefront of his mind. He wants to pour his heart out so it can lie with Harry’s in the small space between their bodies, but then he can’t help but think rationally—knowing how being like this with Harry for just a short while will make it even harder when he has to leave again.

He bites his lip. “What happens when you leave again?”

Harry smiles, albeit cautiously. “What was your yearbook quote again? ‘Live life for the moment, because everything else is uncertain’?”

Louis opens his mouth to retort something in return, but he closes it just as abruptly. Harry is trying to go against Louis by using Louis’ own words, and Louis’ never been one to argue with himself.

“Okay…” he starts slowly. “What’s the plan, Batman?”

 

Batman’s plan, evidently, isn’t an absolutely awful one. 

The two of them have decided that they’re just going to let anything happen. If they feel like giving each other a kiss, then that is what they will do. If Harry feels like holding Louis’ hand, then he’ll do it. If Louis feels like dropping to his knees, peeling Harry’s skin-tight jeans down his legs and sucking him off, then he’ll fucking do it.

“Earth to Lou!” 

Harry is waving a hand around in front of Louis’ face, and Louis finally snaps out of his daydream to react. 

“What?”

“Your mum wants to know what you’d like on your pancakes,” Harry replies, pulling his t-shirt over his head and smiling when his head pops out. “I’m having bananas.”

Louis already knows he’ll be having the same. 

 

~*~

 

If this whole ‘let anything happen’ idea was supposed to stop them from getting in too deep, it isn’t doing a very good job. 

At breakfast, they steal forkfuls of pancake from each other’s plates, despite the fact that they both have the same (and that Louis’ sisters keep complaining about how disgusting they’re being). Then, when it’s time for Louis to open his presents, Harry’s is left until last—along with a knowing look from Louis’ mother—and turns out to be tickets to see a band that both of them had fallen in love with when they went to Leeds Festival for the first time. 

“You—Harry, you tw-prat!” Louis exclaims, his eyes flickering to his younger siblings for a moment. 

Harry’s face falls. “Don’t you like them anymore?”

“No, no; that’s not it!” Louis shakes his head vigorously. “Just...you didn’t even need to get me anything, let alone  _ this. _ ”

Harry tilts his head a little and scrunches his nose up, making Louis’ heart clench. “You’ll never learn to just say thank you, will you?”

After opening his mouth to go against that comment and actually thank Harry for the gift, Louis changes his mind and pointedly shuts it again, crossing his arms over his middle and raising a challenging eyebrow. 

There’s only a short pause before Harry is quickly leaning in and taking Louis by surprise by sealing their lips together in a short, chaste kiss. Louis’ lips fall open in shock as Harry pulls away mere seconds later, his eyebrow now raised in return.

Amongst the choruses of ‘ _ eww’ _ s, Louis squeaks out a, “Thank you,” before he hears Lottie mumble:

“It’s like he never left.”

And, Louis thinks, that might just be true. 

 

~*~

 

“...and then the teacher walked in and they got a complete bollocking!”

“Niall!”

Niall shrugs sheepishly in a ‘ _ what can you do? _ ’ manner, and mouths an apology in Jay’s direction before continuing. “God knows if it was for the amount of paint they were covered in, or the absolute snog-fest they were having, but—”

“O _ kay _ , does anyone want the rice yet?” Louis enquires loudly, spinning the Lazy Susan anti-clockwise so the dish reaches Harry’s mum on the other side of the table. 

Despite the attempt, Louis’ interruption does little to deter Niall from finishing the story which is no doubt about to start a lengthy enquiry from his mother, so he just goes back to his original plan of narrowing his eyes and shaking his head in the Irish lad’s direction. 

“So, that’s basically how we found out that these two had been—”

It’s not the first time that Louis’ been grateful for the length of Harry’s legs when Niall suddenly jerks in his seat and yelps. 

“So, you and Harry were together for...a  _ while,  _ when you were in school?”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath and grabs Louis’ leg under the table. 

“Umm…” Louis thinks over what could possibly be the correct answer in his head before deciding on a simple, “yeah.”

The grip Harry has on Louis’ thigh tightens as their parents exchange looks across the table.

Jay clears her throat, eyeing Louis cautiously. “How long was it before you actually decided to tell us then?”

Looking down at his hands held tightly together on the tabletop, Louis swallows. “Just under a year."

“A year?” The exclamation leaves both of their mothers’ mouths at once, and somebody drops a fork.

“Just under…” Louis squeaks as if it would make any difference. 

“How—?” Anne’s voice comes out in a croak before she tries again. “How did you even keep it a secret for that long?”

Harry catches Louis’ eye and answers for both of them. “We just did. Everything between us happened really fast, and we were scared about it not working out because we’d been friends for so long and were already well integrated into one another’s lives.”

“ _ Integrated _ .” Louis scoffs at Harry’s term, and Harry gently kicks him. 

“I can’t believe this.” Jay shakes her head, looking down at her plate of chow mein. 

Anne still looks confused. “So how long have you actually been together?”

“Six years.”

“Nine years.”

Both boys respond at the same time, leaving an incredibly painful silence in their wake as they realise what each of them has said. They stare at one another for what feels like hours, not losing eye contact as the table stays completely quiet. Louis can’t believe Harry just said that they’d been together nine years. They split up, for fuck’s sake. They haven’t been together for the past three years, and now Harry has gone and—

“If you’d just excuse me,” Harry says softly, removing his hand from Louis’ thigh (which Louis had even forgotten was there) and standing up from the table.

Louis continues to stare at the space Harry is now vacating, before he blurts, “Me too. Excuse me.”

The two of them walk silently to the toilets at the back of the restaurant, where Harry goes straight over to the sinks, running his hand under the cold tap and splashing his face with water. 

“You know that makes your skin blotchy,” Louis mumbles from the opposite end of the room, shifting nervously from foot to foot. 

Harry sighs. “Yeah. Sorry; just… embarrassed.”

Finally taking a few steps further into the room, Louis says softly, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, H.”

They meet each other’s eye in the reflection of the mirror before Harry looks away. “Did you ever think that this would be us?” Before Louis can answer, he continues, “Did you ever think, eight years ago when we decided that this was it, that we would be here now as a broken-up couple who still has feelings for one another?”

“Harry—”

“I haven’t been able to bring myself to date anyone else, you know.”

Louis swallows. “Me neither. The lads kept trying to set me up, but… there’s no one else quite like you.”

A watery giggle leaves Harry’s lips as he turns around to face the other man. “Likewise.”

There’s no other option for Louis but to make the final couple of steps forward and wrap his arms around Harry’s slumped frame. As he always used to, Harry automatically bends down to press his face into Louis’ shoulder, and Louis can feel the wetness of tears being soaked into his jumper. He soon feels the tear tracks on his own face too as he realises how much this separation has been hurting Harry—and how much it will hurt them both when it happens again in just a few days. 

 

~*~

 

“Louis! Louis, wake up! It’s Christmas!” 

A loud voice is right next to Louis’ ear, and in his state of half-consciousness, he can’t quite determine which of his younger siblings it is. His money’s on Doris. 

“Harry, please wake Louis up!”

Louis groans and rolls over, throwing an arm over Harry’s stomach and pressing his nose into his shoulder.

“Why don’t you guys sneak downstairs to see if Santa’s been, and we’ll be out of bed really soon.”

Unable to help himself, Louis smiles fondly at the sound of Harry’s gentle whisper and presses his lips to the other boy’s collarbone, leaving them there even as the door closes behind their early morning visitors. 

“You’re the cutest,” he murmurs and he can practically hear Harry’s grin. 

“I know,” Harry replies, pressing a kiss to Louis’ hair. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Louis moves onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hand. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

“Wonder what Santa’s brought for you,” Harry mumbles, trailing a hand down Louis’ back and under the duvet, stopping when it reaches the waistband of Louis’ pajama bottoms. 

Louis hums, leaning up to press a kiss to Harry’s jaw. “I dunno; maybe I care more about what you’ve got for me,” he says into the skin. 

A small noise rumbles in Harry’s throat and he pulls Louis properly on top of him, letting their mouths meet between them. Louis whines as he shuffles further up Harry’s body to put more force behind the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away. 

“Unfair advantage,” Louis announces, not moving his eyes away from Harry, who tilts his head a little in confusion. “You’ve already brushed your teeth, and my morning breath is awful.”

Harry pouts a little before leaning up and trying to kiss Louis again; Louis shifts his knees to rest either side of Harry’s hips to sit up and move away, shaking his head. 

“I’ll be right back.” Louis jumps off the bed and out of the room, going into the bathroom on the other side of the hallway to quickly brush his teeth, check that his hair isn’t  _ too  _ messy and that there isn’t any sleep in his eyes. 

The smile on Harry’s face is wide as Louis makes his way across the carpet back to the bed, leaning in to press a small, chaste peck to Harry’s lips. 

“Much better,” he murmurs, tangling the fingers of one hand in Harry’s hair to pull him back in for a proper kiss. Harry rolls onto his side to get closer to the other boy, resting his hands on Louis’ hips and moving their lips together slowly. 

“Mmm,” Louis moans softly, moving back slightly to meet Harry’s eyes before asking: “Christmas blowjob?”

There’s a pause before Harry’s bursts out laughing, making Louis do the same as Harry grabs him around the waist, pulling the smaller man on top of him as he rolls onto his back. 

“Damn, I forgot to put the bow on my dick,” Harry jokes and Louis giggles more. 

“That’s okay; it’s enough of a gift without the wrapping,” he says flirtily, licking his lips and beginning to move down Harry’s body, ducking his head beneath the duvet as he reaches Harry’s boxers. 

“Wait, wait, Lou,” Harry protests suddenly, and Louis looks up, holding the sheets out of the way so Harry can see his questioning facial expression. “I promised Dory and Ernie we’d be downstairs soon.”

Louis sighs, sitting up on Harry’s thighs. “Fine. We’ll come back to this later though, right?”

“Of course.” Harry moves so he can sit up enough to kiss Louis softly once more. “Now come on; I need to see your face when you open your gift.”

 

~*~

 

When the two of them enter the living room five minutes later, there is already a fairly large pile of wrapping paper in the middle of the floor and Doris already has some sort of princess dress on over her pajamas. 

“You started without us?” Louis asks, stepping further into the room so his siblings all turn to look at him. Not one of them look remotely guilty. 

“Morning, love,” Jay greets, leaning over to give Louis a hug once he’s sat down. “Merry Christmas.”

Louis smiles, hugging her back and returning the greeting before she moves onto embracing Harry. 

“Lou, look what I got!” Doris exclaims, hurrying over with a kids’ size football in her hands. “Can we play?”

“Wow!” Louis says enthusiastically. “‘Course we can, hon. After breakfast, yeah?”

With a grin, Doris turns back to the tree, falling to her knees and reaching underneath to pull out another present. She hands one to Lottie before pulling the next into her lap to open herself. 

Harry is the next at the tree, looking around the higher branches before dislodging a small box and throwing it across the room to Louis. 

Attempting to cover up the automatic grin on his face with a serious expression, Louis says, “This better not be as amazing as what you got me yesterday.”

Harry just laughs, plopping down on the arm of the sofa beside where Louis is sat. 

Once the paper is removed, Louis is met with a simple, navy blue jewellery box. “Harry, you better not’ve—”

“Just open it.”

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Louis pops the lid open and gasps at what is inside. 

Nestled in amongst green tissue paper sits a circular pendant which contains a miniature map of the UK with a tiny blue heart around where Doncaster is. When Louis flips it over in his hand, he sees that the other side has a map of the USA with a green heart over Minneapolis.

Tears build up in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks, and before Harry has chance to say anything, Louis is excusing himself. 

 

~*~

 

It only takes five minutes before there’s a knock on the door and his mum is poking her head round. 

“Can I come in?” 

Louis nods and Jay enters the room slowly, perching beside him on the edge of the bed and taking one of his hands in both of hers. She’s wearing one of those... _ mum expressions  _ on her face. “What’s up, darling?”

Louis sighs and after a moment, he shrugs, unsure of what exactly is wrong with him. 

“Look, whatever it is, you need to talk to Harry about it. He’s going mad with worry down there—he clearly doesn’t want to have upset you.”

Swallowing the lump that is threatening to return, Louis clears his throat. “He’s going to anyway, isn’t he?”

“Oh, baby,” Jay says softly, letting go of his hands to wrap her arms around him. “It’s going to hurt him, too.”

“I know.” Louis wipes a hand under his eye where an errant tear has escaped. “God, this is such a mess.”

Jay lets out a small breath before asking, “Why did the two of you decide to get back together?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow. “We didn’t.”

“So you’re not together?”

“Well, kind of, but—”

“Lou. Sweetie, you really need to talk to Harry. You’ve been reunited for less than three days and it’s like he’s been here for the last three years. You could make this work. I  _ want  _ you to make this work.” Jay’s words are clearly heartfelt and Louis actually has a moment where he believes that things could work. 

_ But _ ...

“But—”

“Louis, please. If anybody can make long distance work, it’s the two of you. Please, just give yourself a chance at happiness.”

 

~*~

  
  


"Lou! Oh my god, Lou, I'm so sorry, I—"

As soon as Louis returns to the living room, Harry is jumping out of his seat with a worried expression, words leaving his lips at a rapid pace until Louis interrupts by cupping Harry's face in his palm, pressing a kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth. "Let's talk, yeah?"

Nodding obediently, Harry follows Louis into the kitchen, accepting the older boy's offer of tea.

"Thank you for the present, Harry," Louis starts, trying to stop his voice from shaking. He doesn’t succeed.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Lou, I—"

"H," Louis interrupts, pouring hot water into the two mugs containing tea bags, "calm down; I love it—I just think there's an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed."

"I'm sorry. I know; I think this whole 'let anything happen' idea was a stupid one...and all mine, so I'm sorry. I just missed you so much, you know? I didn't want to miss an opportunity to hug you, and kiss you, and—"

This time he's cut off by Louis' lips moving against his in an upside down kiss. It's not as simple as MJ and Spider-Man make it look, but they make it their own. After letting out a small sound of surprise, Harry kisses back, smiling a little into Louis' lips and reaching up to tangle a hand in the other man's hair.

Pulling away a minute or so later, Louis sighs. "It wasn't stupid. I missed you too, and it's been so nice being with you like this. I just wish it didn't have to end."

_ There.  _ Louis knows what he's just said, and before regretting it, he hopes and prays that Harry says the right line from the imaginary script in Louis’ head. 

_ It doesn't have to end. _

"I know what you mean. If I could stay here, you know I would. It's just a shame that long distance would hurt even more. We both know that."

_ No. _

"Yeah, of course,” Louis croaks, clearing his throat before continuing. “We'll just have to visit each other, yeah? And maybe we can do this kind of agreement again," Louis says, inwardly cringing at how fake his voice sounds. 

"Sure."

_ God, this is so painful. Abort. Abort. _

"Is this it for now, then?" Harry says, and  _ God,  _ despite the pain that has been caused by the two of them allowing anything to happen, Louis doesn’t want to  _ stop.  _ Can he keep being with Harry like this and not keep falling further and further for him? The answer to that question is probably no also, but it’s not enough to stop Louis responding with:

"I mean, does it have to be? We only have two more days... I wouldn't want to waste them."

A large grin quickly forms on Harry's face. "Does that mean I'll still get a Christmas blowjob?"

Louis laughs.  _ Fake. Fake. _ "Maybe."

 

~*~

 

Just like every other Christmas day Louis can remember, it passes quickly. Presents are opened and words of thanks and hugs of gratefulness are shared; food is eaten and alcohol is consumed. By the late evening, when Doris and Ernie are zonked out in front of the telly, Lottie and Felicite have gone with their partners to visit family, Daisy and Phoebe are getting some use out of their favourite gifts and their parents and Gemma are sat in the kitchen sharing a cheeseboard, Harry and Louis are sharing the armchair, Louis curled up against Harry’s chest with warm arms wrapped around him.

_ I wish every Christmas could be like this,  _ are the words he wants to say, but he daren’t ruin the moment. 

“I really have missed you, you know?” Harry whispers, fiddling with the pendant on the end of the necklace where it rests on Louis’ collarbone. (Despite the clenching it causes in Louis’ heart, he can’t bring himself to not wear it. It’s so beautiful, and incredibly...Harry-ish.)

“I know,” Louis says softly back. “I’ve missed you too.”

Silence falls between them, and for the second time that day, Harry flips open the book that sits on the table beside them, smiling at the first page.

“God, weren’t we cute?” he asks, the question sounding rhetorical as he moves the album to where Louis can see it. The first photograph of the two of them is from a Christmas day twenty years ago—when Louis was just seven and Harry was four. They do look positively adorable, wearing matching Christmas jumpers and Santa hats on their heads.

The album was put together by Louis’ mum for him to give to Harry as a Christmas present, given the fact that Harry’s appearance was a surprise and Louis hasn’t exactly had chance to go out and buy anything. She only chose pictures from when Harry and Louis were young—when they were best friends and nothing more. 

Definitely a wise choice, given the current situation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how old I was when I first realised my feelings for you, have I?” Harry murmurs, and that question certainly  _ isn’t  _ rhetorical. 

This is dangerous territory, Louis knows, but he still shakes his head and looks up to see Harry’s small smile. 

“I’m pretty sure I was about ten,” Harry continues, catching Louis’ eye. “I remember thinking, ‘Shit, I don’t know what I’d do without Louis’, and that was it.”

“I hope ten-year-old you wasn’t really using that kind of language in his head.”

Harry chuckles. “Nah; I think that must’ve been the age we started secretly saying ‘damn’ ‘cause we thought it was grown-up.”

Louis can’t help but smile, remembering the phase well. “And those old ladies at tennis told us that we shouldn’t say ‘damn’ and should say ‘fiddlesticks’ instead.”

Harry giggles as he turns to the next page. It’s an adorable picture from a Halloween disco in primary school where Louis dressed as a vampire and Harry as a cat. Because Harry kept giving Louis ‘cat cuddles’ and Louis was just a bit taller than him, he ended up with white face paint in his curls, which can clearly be seen in the picture in front of them. 

They look through the rest of the album without saying much, only laughing occasionally when particularly embarrassing ones come up.

“It was all so easy back then,” Harry suddenly comments, the sound of his voice startling Louis a little where he had started to drop off. 

He nods sleepily in response, pressing a kiss to the centre of Harry’s chest before closing his eyes again. 

 

~*~

 

The next day as everyone packs up to return home or to go and visit more people, Louis and Harry end up just lying on the sofa, being the two with the smallest amount of stuff to pack. 

"Harry! We really need to leave now; the cat sitter is leaving at two!" 

Louis looks up, his face still rested on Harry's chest as he raises his eyebrows. Continuing to stroke Louis' hair, Harry just shakes his head and leans back into the cushions as he lets out a heavy sigh.

"Harry!" Gemma pokes her head around the living room door, looking exasperated now. "Please."

Louis sits up and Harry groans before doing the same, the two of them standing up, grabbing their bags and heading over to the door leading out into the entrance hall. 

“I’m sure Pixie will be fine on her own for a little while after the cat-sitter has left,” Harry points out and moves one bag into his other hand so he can wrap an arm around Louis’ waist. 

Since they first got up this morning—when Harry finally released Louis from his arms—Harry has been taking any opportunity to somehow be touching or caressing Louis in some way. It’s clear why: today is pretty much the last time they’re going to see each other before Harry returns to America. There’s a possibility that he might make it to Louis and Niall’s New Year’s Eve party before his early flight the next day, but it’s not for certain. 

“Well, I’m not taking any chances,” Gemma answers. “You never know what the Boxing Day traffic will be like.”

Harry droops a little, and just at that sight, the words are leaving Louis’ mouth in a rush. 

“Why don’t you stay with me?”

Gemma, Jay, Dan and of course Harry all turn to look at him, each of them showing different emotions. His mum has even managed to look a mixture of concerned and happy for him. Harry looks positively thrilled however, and that’s enough to make Louis know he’s made the right suggestion. 

“Oh, can I, Gem? Please?” Harry pleads. 

Gemma laughs. “H, you’re twenty-four years old. I’m pretty sure you make your own decisions now.”

“I’ll still come and see you a few more times before I go,” Harry promises, and it’s clear what he’s already decided. 

 

~*~

 

“Well, here we are: make yourself at home.”

Truth is, this used to be Harry’s home. Before he left for America, this was the flat he shared with Louis; where many happy memories had been made. Not long after he went, Niall suddenly found himself without anywhere to stay after a tricky break up and he and Louis decided it would be incredibly convenient to live together. 

Louis can tell that Harry is thinking something on a similar line and nudges his foot gently with his own. “I’m still in the same room—if you want to put your stuff down, that is.”

Harry smiles, grateful. “Thanks, Lou. I’ll take your stuff too.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” Harry presses a small kiss to Louis’ lips. “I’ll be right back.”

After he’s watched him leave, Louis ventures into the kitchen to make two cups of tea. As the kettle boils, the front door closes and Niall is suddenly poking his head around the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether you’d be back.”

“Likewise,” Louis responds. “Tea?”

“Please.”

There’s a beat once Niall has disappeared into the hall to take his shoes off before Louis is saying: “Ni, I have something to tell you.”

Niall appears once again, face sincere. “You’re pregnant?”

Louis can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “No, but—”

“Oh, I just thought you might’ve been after what happened at the party. You and H weren’t exactly subtle when you disappeared and didn’t return. Bet he must’ve really fucked you out, huh?” Niall wiggles his eyebrows, his face dropping immediately after. 

“I think I did alright, thanks,” Harry’s voice responds as he enters the kitchen through the other door. “Nice Christmas, Niall?”

Niall swallows. “Um, yeah, good thanks. Lou, what was it you had to tell me?”

 

They are set some ground rules by Niall:

  1. No sex anywhere Niall may sit/use. (Including the shower and kitchen.)
  2. No sex that is loud enough to keep Niall awake/wake him up.
  3. Leftovers from food-based dates should be saved for Niall. 



“You do know that we’ve had sex pretty much everywhere in this flat before, right?” Harry says as Niall sticks a piece of paper containing the rules to the fridge using a magnet. 

Niall pulls a face of disgust. “Thanks for that. I’d kinda wiped out that thought from my mind up until this moment.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry grins, winking over at Louis who laughs, shaking his head at the two of them. It reminds him of when the three of them were best friends in school, until Niall became a constant third wheel/cockblock. 

Good times. 

“Right, so I’m gonna go and unpack my stuff, and then I think it would be nice to go for a bit of a catch-up dinner considering I didn’t see much of Harry at the party,” Niall announces.

“Says the one who visited Harry twice before he came to the party,” Louis points out. (Turns out the ‘Irish lad’ Niall bumped into when they were Christmas shopping was actually Harry, and he had been staying with Gemma in London the week before Louis’ birthday. At least that meant Louis wasn’t really hallucinating in Costa that time.)

“I knew you’d be bitter about that,” Niall grumbles as he picks up his bag and leaves the kitchen. 

After a moment of silence where Harry and Louis just keep grinning stupidly at one another across the kitchen, Louis pushes off the counter and makes his way over to the door.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, already following him like a lost puppy.

Louis gestures to his outfit. “I can’t exactly go out to dinner dressed like this, can I?”

Harry manages to wrap an arm around Louis’ waist before he can walk any further, pulling him back into his chest. “I think you look beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Louis’ jaw. 

Laughing, Louis pushes him away. “I’m wearing joggers and an old t-shirt—not exactly restaurant attire. Unless we’re going to McDonalds.”

“Ooh, I could murder a Chicken Legend,” Niall muses as he walks back into the living room. “We could just get a drive-thru.”

“I thought we were going out to dinner?” Louis asks.

“That is out. We’re leaving the house, aren’t we?”

 

~*~

 

The next few days are so ridiculously lazy, and although Harry and Louis don’t do a lot, they seem to fly past. 

Louis wakes up every morning with his legs tangled up in Harry’s, and they’re often holding hands by the morning too. It hurts every time, but it also makes him smile.

The definition of bittersweet. 

They spend their daytimes lounging around on the sofa watching rubbish TV, or baking (read:  _ food-fighting _ ), or going out for walks. There is so much to talk about, and hardly ever silence between them. They manage to avoid most topics that have the potential to cause pain, and Louis eventually finds himself forgetting that Harry will be gone again very soon.

(It’s even easier to forget when the two of them retire to bed and he gets his hands on Harry’s skin, painting words and symbols of love and eternity into the pale canvas, smiling when Harry giggles.)

(And having his brain sucked out of his dick—that helps too.)

Harry also spends some time with Gemma, leaving Louis alone with Niall, who—predictably—has numerous questions about the future of Harry and Louis’ relationship, and what will happen when Harry returns to America. 

“It’s obviously a long distance hint!” Niall exclaims, flipping Louis’ necklace over and over in his hand. “That’s some ‘my heart is at home’ shit right there.”

Louis shakes his head. “I really don’t think that’s what it means.”

“Of  _ course  _ that’s what it means!”

“Then how come he said that long distance would hurt more than breaking up?” Louis says loudly, snatching the necklace back from Niall and fastening it around his neck. “We have the rest of this week and that is it.”

Niall clearly doesn’t have much of an answer to that, so proceeds to change the subject. 

Louis’ lucky to have such a great roommate and best friend. 

 

~*~

 

“Niall, it’s not Christmas anymore—I really doubt people will use that.”

“‘Tis still the season, little Scrooge!” Niall exclaims, wobbling precariously on the step ladder. “You will be surprised.”

Louis’ starting to think that having pre-pre-drinks with just the three of them might’ve been a bad idea. 

“There!” Niall hops down from the ladder. “Looks great, right?”

“Definitely,” Harry responds, stepping up behind Louis and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Care to christen it, Lou?”

Louis rolls his eyes but still takes a couple of steps forward so he’s right under the mistletoe before turning back to Harry and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I still think it’s stupid,” he says immediately after. 

“Is Liam coming, Lou?” Niall asks from where he’s swaying near the wall.

“Yes… Niall, he’s straight. He has a girlfriend.”

“I know, I know...just asking for a friend.”

It might be a good idea for them to hold off on the alcohol for a little while before their first lot of guests arrive, Louis thinks. 

 

There’s a packed bag in the corner of Louis’ bedroom, and Louis is tempted to throw it out of the window. Sure, there’s a definite risk it will hurt somebody, and it won’t exactly stop Harry from leaving, but Louis doesn’t like the way it sits there. It’s almost as if it’s saying, ‘ _ I get to go with Harry and you don’t’.  _ It’s laughing at him. 

Louis may be a bit drunk. 

“Lou, why are you sat in here? It’s nearly time for the countdown!” Harry exclaims from the doorway.

Louis just lets out a huff and shrugs in response. 

“Come on.” Harry steps further into the room and takes Louis’ hand to help him up. “Wanna kiss you at midnight.”

Louis wants to add, ‘ _ before you leave me at two’ _ , but his tongue feels a bit fuzzy and he can’t quite remember how to form words anymore. 

“Louis!!” Niall yells across the living room from where he’s hanging off Liam’s shoulders with a bottle of tequila in his hand. “Midnight shots!” he exclaims. 

Before Louis has chance to reply, everyone in the room is counting down to the New Year. 

_ 3...2...1...Happy New Year! _

Party poppers go off, people begin to sing Auld Lang Syne and everyone around Niall is doing shots of tequila, but Louis pays no attention to that. All he can see is Harry’s face; all he can feel is Harry’s arms around his waist. 

“Happy New Year, Lou,” Harry whispers, their lips brushing together before meeting in a kiss. 

Louis rises up onto his toes, throwing his arms around Harry’s neck and keening into the other man’s mouth. The kiss feels like it’s almost too much, yet not enough. 

Harry has a tight grip on Louis’ t-shirt where it is bunched up around his waist and his thumbs gently brush against the skin underneath. 

“H,” Louis breathes as he tears himself away from Harry’s soft lips, “please.”

No more needs to be said before Harry has a tight grip on Louis’ hand and is pulling him down the corridor and into his bedroom.

“What is it with you and having sex at parties all of a sudden?” Harry asks jokily, immediately removing his shirt and Louis’.

Louis presses a kiss to the centre of Harry’s chest before pulling him over to the bed so they can fall onto the mattress. “I got kinkier when you left.”

“Oh really?” Harry raises an eyebrow. “Too vanilla for you, am I?”

Louis gets hold of Harry’s hair and  tugs it back so his neck is further exposed. Harry whines at the pain.

“You’ll do,” Louis says against the skin before nipping and sucking at it to form a bruise. 

A soft, high-pitched noise falls from Harry’s bitten-pink lips. “Lou; please don’t tease. Want you.”

Louis pulls back to admire his work, running a finger over the reddening mark before kissing it gently. “Wanna fuck you,” he mumbles, his lips brushing against the love bite. “Can I?”

Harry whines. “Yes, Lou. Please.”

Louis leans up to kiss Harry once more before leaning over to the bedside drawer.

“No condom,” Harry suddenly says. “Want to feel you.”

Hoping that the shudder which runs through him isn’t entirely obvious, Louis drops the packet back into the drawer and sits back to slick up his fingers.

“Got tested before I came,” Harry explains, arching his back as soon as he has the first finger inside of him. 

“Eager, eh?” Louis teases. “Coming prepared with lube and condoms,  _ and  _ getting tested? Wow.”

Harry giggles and Louis can’t help but grin. He’s never laughed with anyone else but Harry during sex—it’s always so...refreshing. 

“Guess I just knew how irresistible I would be to you,” Harry continues, his voice trailing off as a second finger joins the first. 

“Can’t argue with that.” Louis chuckles as he takes that opportunity to lean down and lick around his fingers, making Harry’s next moan louder. 

“Hurry, Lou,” Harry whines. “Please.”

It’s not much later that Louis is slicking up his cock and entering Harry’s welcoming body, a moan rumbling in his throat at the feeling. Harry echoes it as he lets his head drop back onto the pillows. 

 

Louis’ thrusts are hard and fast, and soon have both of them reaching shaky orgasms that leave them without breath and boneless.

“God, I’ve got to get up and go in like ninety minutes,” Harry grumbles, his eyes falling shut as Louis gathers up enough energy to wipe them both down with a flannel. 

“Just stay then,” Louis replies easily, the remaining alcohol in his system definitely playing a part in that comment. 

Harry smiles sadly. “You know I wish I could.”

Louis frowns. “I didn’t know that.”

“Lou.” Harry rolls onto his side, propping up his face with his palm. “Do you really think that I  _ want  _ to leave you?”

Shrugging, Louis finds himself unable to make eye-contact with the other boy. 

After a second, Harry is taking Louis’ face in his free hand and raising his eyes. “You mean the world to me, baby. America isn’t home for me—you are my home. I’m only home when I’m here with you.”

“This flat will be empty without you,” Louis whispers as he feels the tears building in his eyes. 

“My heart will be empty without  _ you _ .” Harry tilts his head forward so their foreheads can meet in the middle. “I love you, Louis.”

“Then stay here,” Louis says. “Don’t leave me.”

“I h-have to,” Harry stutters, his face crumpling as tears race each other down his cheeks. “I don’t want to, but I have no other choice.”

“I’ll miss you so much.” 

“Not as much as I will miss you.”

“Wanna bet?”

The two of them laugh through their tears, reaching out to wipe them away from one another’s faces. They know that this is their final moment—their last scene together. 

 

This is the end of Harry and Louis once again. 

 

~*~

_ The End of January _

 

“Come on, Lou; we really need to take down these decorations now."

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs. "What's the point when we're just gonna put them up again in less than a year?"

It's now Niall's turn to sigh, huffing out a breath as he takes a step further into the room. "It's not Christmas anymore. It's over."

Louis has a feeling that Niall may not just be referring to the ending of Christmas.

"I hate seeing you like this," he continues, perching on the edge of the bed. "This has happened before and... I can't believe he's done this to you again."

That's enough to make Louis move up onto his elbows and look over his shoulder. "It wasn't his choice."

“Of course it was!”

“I’m not the kind of person to make someone choose me over their career, Ni. Harry meant the world to me—still does, unfortunately—and all I want is for him to be happy,” Louis explains softly before turning away again and burying his face in the pillows. 

It almost makes Louis jump when Niall places a gentle hand across his shoulder blades and strokes up and down a few times soothingly. “And what if he’s not happy in America?”

“Then he wouldn’t have gone back.”

Pause.

“What if he had to go back and didn’t really want to leave you?”

Louis sighs frustratedly. “All these ‘ _ what if _ ’s, Niall. We won’t ever know, will we? Harry’s gone. End of story.”

After a lengthy silence, Louis realises that Niall’s hand has stopped moving and he probably doesn’t have anything to respond to that with. He kind of expects him to leave too—but he definitely doesn’t want him to.

“Come on,” Louis eventually says. “Let’s take the tree down first.”

 

It’s strange how something that Louis always got upset about when he was younger is actually the best distraction for him now. He and Niall have a laugh as they dance around to the radio and carefully remove the decorations from the tree, placing them into their boxes to be stored away for next year. 

Just as the final string of lights has been taken off, the doorbell rings and Louis and Niall exchange confused glances. 

“Maybe it’s Liam—he did leave his jumper here the other day.”

Niall shrugs, going back to what he was doing and letting Louis be the one to answer the door. Letting out a sigh, Louis drags himself over to the door, hoping it’s not some kind of handsome stranger who really doesn’t need to meet him when he’s wearing dirty joggers and crocodile slippers. 

It’s not a handsome stranger.

It’s not Liam.

It’s Harry. 

This is the second time in the last month where Louis has opened a door, had Harry on the other side and felt like he could pass out. Instead, he stupidly says:

“Why are  _ you  _ here?”

Harry smiles ruefully. “It’s nice to see you too, Louis.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Louis shakes his head. “Come in.”

“Um, I actually… Shit; this really isn’t going to plan.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow. “You don’t want to come in?”

“No, no, I do, it’s just that… I thought Niall might answer the door.”

Feeling his face visibly drop, Louis softly says, “So you’re here to see Niall?”

“God, Lou, of course I’m—I can’t think.”

Entirely uncertain of what to do, next thing Louis knows he’s wrapping his arms around Harry’s slumped frame, pressing his nose into the soft skin of his neck. There’s a beat before Harry hugs back, and then the two of them simply melt together, Harry letting out a quiet happy sound. 

“Thanks,” he says when they separate. “I needed that.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Louis’ lips. “I could tell.”

Harry sighs, leaning against the doorframe. “You know when you’ve rehearsed everything you want to say so many times, and when it comes to actually saying it, you don’t know how?”

Louis nods as he remembers the exact same thing happening to him during their conversations about trying long distance. He waits for Harry though, and it takes a couple of minutes before Harry has gathered his thoughts together and opens his mouth to speak. 

“I’m just going to say it.”

Swallowing, Louis nods. “Okay.” He has no idea why he’s nervous—it must just be Harry radiating the feeling off of him. 

“I’ve quit my job,” Harry suddenly blurts.

Louis remains silent, staring straight at Harry’s face, but not quite in his eyes. 

“I’m moving back to London,” Harry continues, “and, I, uh, wanted to ask if you’d like to move in with me?”

Louis just blinks, not quite knowing what to say. Of course, the obvious answer is yes—he’s been dreaming of this moment for the past three years—but he can’t help but feel incredibly… guilty. 

“Why did you quit?” he whispers, needing the answer to clear his own mind. 

Harry shrugs. “I never enjoyed it.”

“Why didn’t you quit before, then?”

Pushing off the wall, Harry takes a step closer to where Louis is standing just the other side of the threshold. “Because I didn’t realise what I was missing here.”

“But, I—”

“And I also wanted to ask…”

“Harry—”

“Lou,” Harry pulls his hand out of his pocket, and in it is a small, sky-blue box, “will you marry me?”

Louis doesn’t have the power to interrupt anymore. He doesn’t have enough energy to speak, and it feels like his legs could buckle at any moment. This is worse than when he found Harry on the doorstep at his birthday party. 

“Louis?” Harry says gently. “Are you okay?”

Louis tries to shake his head and nod at the same time, resulting in a bizarre head movement. The strangest combination of emotions is running through his body at the moment; he’s so happy he could cry, so confused he could cry and so  _ fucking in love  _ he could cry. 

He’s not okay. 

Except, he kind of is. 

Still unable to talk, Louis lets out a high-pitched squeak, leaping forwards into Harry’s arms and squeezing him tight. Harry catches him, lifting him off the ground so Louis can wrap his legs around his waist as he spins the two of them around. 

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Louis is repeating; now he’s got his voice back, it’s the only word he can say. He moves his head back from Harry’s shoulder so he can kiss him deeply. 

“I love you so much, Lou,” Harry whispers when they pull apart. 

“I love you, too,” Louis responds softly, leaning in to kiss him again. It only lasts a second though, before he’s pulling back and jumping down from Harry’s embrace to pull him into the entrance hall of the flat. 

Harry laughs, looking confused until Louis points up at the ceiling where Niall’s plastic mistletoe is still hanging. 

“You haven’t taken your decorations down yet?”

“I’ve decided to be romantic, and that is what you ask me?” Louis asks, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. 

Harry just grins as he leans down to kiss Louis again. 

 

~*~

 

The photograph on Louis’ bedside table is a bit different now, but still contains the same two people. Instead of the coats and scarves that appeared in the previous one, there are now two suits, and most importantly, two bands of gold. 

 

(And a pendant containing a map with two hearts over London; one blue and one green.)

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> [(Fic Post)](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com/post/136418788983/i-have-loved-you-since-by-dontlethimgo-harrylouis)


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